


Divine Intervention; or, How to Top a Happy Ending

by VioletMoodSwings



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Anal Sex, Anathema Device Ships Aziraphale/Crowley, Angel Wings, Aziraphale Has a Penis (Good Omens), Aziraphale gets very complimentary when he's close, BDSM, Bondage, Crowley Has a Penis (Good Omens), Cuckolding, Dom Crowley (Good Omens), Dominant!Crowley, F/M, Flogging, Foursome - F/M/M/M, Genderfluid Character, Gentle Dom Aziraphale (Good Omens), Group Sex, Ironic flavors of angel jizz, Kink Negotiation, M/M, Multi, Porn, Smut, Submissive!Anathema, Switch Aziraphale (Good Omens), Switch!Aziraphale, This has a whole lotta setup for PWP, Threesome - F/M/M, Vaginal Sex, Wing Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-16
Updated: 2021-02-07
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:28:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 9,938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28099959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VioletMoodSwings/pseuds/VioletMoodSwings
Summary: To show their gratitude, Aziraphale and Crowley demonstrate proper domination techniques to Newton Pulsifer on Anathema Device. Newton appreciates his bonus cuckoldry. Anathema appreciates the whole shebang. NOW COMPLETE!
Relationships: Anathema Device/Newton Pulsifer, Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley/Anathema Device, Crowley/Aziraphale/Anathema Device/Newton Pulsifer
Comments: 8
Kudos: 46





	1. Prologue

Happy endings had their problems, even for a couple of immortals like Crowley and Aziraphale: in this particular case it was how to properly thank the humans that had helped them save the world. Of course it wasn’t necessary, especially as the memory of said mortals was hazy on the whole affair, but Aziraphale had thought the gesture would be lovely all the same, and Crowley couldn’t say no to the big wet eyes his angel made with the persistent suggestion.

So, how to show appreciation to those who’d already gotten what their Happily Ever After? The trick, Aziraphale insisted, was to find things they didn’t even know they wanted.

To Adam and the Them it was a brilliant new tree house tucked away in the woods to discover on an adventure. For Madame Tracy and Shadwell in their country bungalow it was a garden that would bloom in every season.

Straightforward fellow that he was, a gift to please Newton Pulsifer would have been simple enough, such as the ability to successfully construct a model airplane. Anathema, though, was harder to pin down, and if Aziraphale had needed sleep he certainly would have lost hours of it while perplexing over her propensities.

When Crowley casually proposed they “do a bit of recon” on the new couple, Aziraphale clutched his metaphorical pearls.

“You mean _spy_ on them?” he replied with a scandalized look on his angelic face. Minutes later they were screaming down the road in Crowley’s Bentley to the sounds of “Crazy Little Thing Called Love.”

After a week of the pair lurking about the Pulsifer/Device household disguised as laborers working on the vacant home next door, Aziraphale found himself no closer to an answer.

Crowley, however, had been taking his own notes. Aziraphale tended to politely turn his head in the more intimate moments the two humans shared, still a frequent occurrence in the newness of the relationship. Crowley had no such reservations, which often earned him a half-hearted slap on the shoulder from the angel.

In his enthusiastic amateur opinion*, Anathema was a “switch,” in BDSM lingo. Without a doubt, mutual pleasure was achieved in the times she tied Newton to the bed and tortured him kindly with a range of archaic apparatus.** When she tried to encourage her fellow to take the lead though, he simply stammered and blushed. In Crowley’s estimation, ol’ Newt had it in him deep down, in the grand tradition of men long trod upon by the world. Learning to conscientiously assert himself would be good for Newton – and if done right, for his lady love as well.

“He just needs a proper demonstration. Let’s give ‘em a little _divine intervention_ ,” Crowley said to Aziraphale with a smirk.

“Oh Crowley, I don’t know. That seems so… drastic,” Aziraphale replied. “Besides, I’m not sure I’m equipped to pass on that sort of knowledge.”

“You are perfectly well-equipped, angel.” Crowley suggestively looked Aziraphale up and down over the top of his shades. His counterpart blushed with coy pleasure. “’Course you can conjure any bits and bobs you see fit. Maybe young Pulsifer won’t be the only one getting an education.”

Aziraphale’s blush deepened, but he persisted.

“Won’t we be inviting the Little Green Monster around for tea, though? Humans are so stubbornly susceptible to it.”

“Was jealousy one of yours or one of ours, I wonder?” Crowley mumbled off-handedly, mostly to himself. “Haven’t you seen the way he looks at Anathema when another man takes a gander at her in public? I mean, women do it too sometimes, but Newt’s too clueless to notice that.”

“No I haven’t, but I suppose you plan on edifying me.”

“It sets him _alight_. Gets his motor running. He really, really, _really_ likes it. In terms of thank-yous I think we’d be outdoing ourselves here.”

Aziraphale’s brow furrowed as he processed this information. “Humans are so oddly inconsistent.”

“Almost… ineffable, you might say.” Crowley winked.

“You’re such a naughty boy,” Aziraphale said in coquettish reproval.

“Yes, perfect, hold onto that look! Maybe we’ll find you a great long yardstick to go along with that schoolmarm outrage.”

Aziraphale was pretty sure he was being teased, but he couldn’t resist the bait. “Schoolmarm!”

“That’s the spirit!” Crowley grinned. “Besides, haven’t you always want to fuck a human woman – not just a demon with a cunt?”

“ _Language_!” Aziraphale hissed and peered about to see if anyone had heard, more out of habit than any actual offense.

“I’m not sure what you’re worried about, angel. Heaven is the perfect training ground for a dom.”

  
  


FOOTNOTES

*The Bastille wasn’t the only dungeon Crowley had haunted.

**Crowley suspected these implements had been handed down through the family line. It is a stereotype that witches are prone to what humanity has considered perversion over the millennia, but stereotypes often exist for a reason (though one human’s “sexual deviance” is another’s “castrating of the patriarchy” [usually in a metaphorical sense]).


	2. Chapter 2

“Newton, who was that at the door?” Anathema called out as she trod down the stairs in a sensible-yet-witchy blouse and ankle-length skirt. Her hair hung over her shoulders.

When she rounded the corner into the sitting room, the witch found her fellow chatting awkwardly with two men. An elaborate cake dish sat on the coffee table. Three gazes fell upon her.

The towheaded gentleman perched on the sofa next to Newton. “Hello,” he said demurely, like the second male lead in a Jane Austen novel.

The ginger one, balanced on the arm on the loveseat, looked as though he’d lost his way to the green room at a Rolling Stones concert. He smiled broadly behind dark sunglasses and waved.

“We came to welcome you to the neighborhood,” the blonde continued.

Newton furrowed his brow. “I thought you said you were friends of Anathema’s.”

The two strangers exchanged glances. The ginger shrugged.

“I made you a Schwartzwälder Kirkstorte,” the blonde said apologetically, as if that explained it.

“We… we have met, haven’t we,”Anathema said, eyes squinting behind her specs with the glimmer of recognition.

The ginger man rose. “See, I told you she would remember!”

He extended his hand to Anathema, who still stared at him as she wracked her brain. “I’m called Crowley,” he said. Reflexively she reached out and took his hand. As they shook, Crowley turned to his companion.

“They might need a little help though.”

“Can we?” said the blonde.

“I think so,” Crowley replied.

Anathema was about to pull away from the arduously long handshake when in a flash it all came back to her. Not just the identities of the mysterious strangers – Crowley was a demon; the other one, Aziraphale, an angel – but a whole host of events. Armageddon, or the thwarting thereof. It was like experiencing a past life.

Her eyes flew to a flustered Newton. Aziraphale’s manicured hand laid on his shoulder.

“How could I forget all of that?” exclaimed Newton, whose memory had apparently been taken on a little afternoon jog as well.

“What’s going on? Is everything okay? Why are you here?” machine-gunned Anathema with a pang of guilt at burning her ancestor’s sequel. Living life without guidance from Agnes was an adjustment, to put it mildly.

“I see it’s come back to you,” Crowley replied, still holding her hand. “Everything’s probably fine, at least for now. We’re came to offer you a little thank-you gift.”

“If you’re amenable, of course,” Aziraphale quickly interjected.

Anathema frowned suspiciously. “Thank-you for what?”

“Why, saving the world, of course,” said Crowley. “Or helping, anyway.”

“What’s the present?” Newton inquired, boyish excitement mixed into his anxiety.

“A lesson,” Crowley said. “A skill-share. A live demonstration, if you will.

“Oh.” Newton looked disappointed.

“What kind of demonstration?” asked Anathema.

Crowley didn’t just turn his full attention back to Anathema, he dialed it up. Anathema felt the weight of the demon’s gaze, even through his opaque lenses. Crowley’s loose grip on her hand tightened a bit and he somehow seemed to suddenly loom over her despite having hardly moved at all. She broke out into a light sweat, immediately getting the gist. She swallowed, anticipatory butterflies beating in her stomach.

“Oh,” she murmured.

“What? What??” asked Newton. Anathema loved him dearly, but body language was not his native tongue.

“Aziraphale?” Crowley prompted.

“Well...” Aziraphale began, “we thought you two might, um, find useful, and perhaps, well… _enjoy_ … a… a…”

Crowley chuckled indulgently and murmured, “We’ll be here until Kingdom tries to Come again, at this rate.”

Abruptly the demon pulled Anathema flush against his lanky body. She gasped in surprise – as did Newton and perhaps even Aziraphale – and the submissive in her thrilled.

Crowley gazed intently down at her with snake eyes from over the top of his shades. “A demonstration in domination techniques.”

***

Getting Newton to agree took surprisingly little persuasion from the pair of immortals (the demon, mainly); it seemed that she and her new fellow still had some things to learn about each other – and she suspected they were just about to do a whole hell of a lot of that. Anathema, though still apprehensive about the arrangement, thought perhaps a little demo _would_ help broaden Newton’s horizons. Never mind her excitement about becoming more intimately acquainted with both the occult _and_ the ethereal _at the same time_. She wondered if Agnes had seen this one coming.

Anathema and Aziraphale had been sent upstairs to set the scene while Crowley remained downstairs to give Newton a “briefing.”

Anathema was relieved for a task to take the edge off her anticipation. She moved dutifully about the bedroom closing blinds and covering lamps with sheer scarves. Aziraphale sat stiffly on the edge of the bed. Frankly, he seemed more nervous about this than she did.

“Do you… do this much?” Anathema asked.

Her voice seemed to shock him out of a reverie. “Do what?”

Anathema pondered how to put it delicately for the uneasy angel. “… meddle in the affairs of humans,” she finally came up with.

“Ah,” Aziraphale said and thought for a moment. “I… I suppose that we do. Though never like this before.”

Though it felt a little odd to comfort a divine being, Anathema paused and put her hand on the fine, stiff cotton of his coat sleeve. “You’re going to do great,” she said with a business-like smile, and continued her preparations.

Aziraphale blinked a few times in rapid succession. Out of the corner of her eye she saw that the angel now watched her with a mild version of the bemused affection he directed towards Crowley.

From under the bed Anathema pulled out a large carry-on bag. She hauled it up atop the bureau and folded open the flap. At the revelation of restraints, floggers, strap-ons and other kinky paraphernalia, the dainty horror returned to Aziraphale’s face.

Anathema stopped again. “We don’t have to do this,” she said kindly. “We could… go for a picnic or something instead.”

Aziraphale inhaled deeply, then rose from the bed, standing to his full height and straightening his waistcoat. With a dignified stride he joined Anathema by the toy bag and peered inside. Their hands hung side-by-side. He brushed his pinky against hers, then linked them. The occultist and the angel shared a warm smile.

“Looks like you two have hit it off,” said Crowley from the doorway with a grin, then leered at Newton, who peeked in from behind him, face flushed. Startled, Aziraphale released Anathema’s finger.

Crowley ambled up to Anathema and Aziraphale and looked into the bag. “I always suspected that witches have the best toys.”

Pawing through a few items, Crowley pulled forth a cast-iron contraption.

“Are these thumb screws? Aw, you never see a good thumb screw anymore!” he said with enthusiasm.

“Those are Newton’s, actually,” Anathema said, gesturing him into the room.

He crept in. “Shadwell’s, really. I just… ended up with them.”

“Witchfinder Army issue, eh?” Crowley looked deviously from Newton to the screws and back. Newton’s eyes widened. Anathema smiled to herself. They’d never been used on him to the full extent of their power, of course, but Newton was a fan and Anathema enjoyed the ironic role reversal.

Crowley smirked and plunked the thumbscrews onto the bureau. “Let’s… table these for a minute and put our heads together.”

He sat on the edge of the bed and motioned for everyone to join him. Once the party was settled, he continued. “Newton and I have already had a little chat about his desires and comfort zone.” Newton’s face reddened, but he nodded. “He’s going to take his instruction from across the room – as long as everyone else is happy with that.”

The embarrassed thrill on Newton’s face made Anathema’s heart melt. “That’s fine,” she said, squeezing her fellow’s hand.

The rest of the negotiation went smoothly, and Anathema forgot how much easier this sort of thing was with an experienced partner. Aziraphale seemed relieved that Crowley did the talking.

“And Aziraphale,” Anathema said as they wound down, “It seems like you two have your own arrangement, but… are you okay with all of this?”

Aziraphale smiled bravely. “I am.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t let you rough him up in ways he doesn’t enjoy,” Crowley said. He and Aziraphale shared an intimate look.

“Anathema, do you have a preference on genitalia?”

Anathema’s face remained neutral but she cocked her head slightly. “How do you mean?”

“Aziraphale and I are from the same stock, so out default is… well, think Ken doll. But, lucky us, we can sport whatever tackle we put our minds to. So, any preference on where we put those minds?”

That was a piece of logistics she had not considered, though from her studies it made perfect sense. It was an exciting development in more ways than one.

Anathema cleared her throat. “I’ve been with female-types now and again, but I do love a… phallus. Or two.” She cast her glittering eyes on Newton. His breathing sped.

“Piece of cake,” said Crowley. Anathema thought he winked, but it was hard to tell behind the sunglasses. “Two heaping helpings, coming up. Safewords?”

“Newton’s is ‘Ethernet.’ Mine is ‘red.’”

“Right then! Let’s get this party started – unless there are any questions or concerns…?” The demon looked to Aziraphale and Newton, who shook their heads. “Anathema?”

“No… sir.”

A devilish smile crept onto Crowley’s face. He pushed off the bed and with a gentlemanly flourish helped Aziraphale to his feet.

“You,” he motioned to Newton. “Down to your skivvies and sit on the floor in the corner. If you’re a very good boy we won’t make you face the wall.”

Newton’s face turned a deep crimson and he looked to Anathema. “You heard the… demon. He’s in charge now,” she said sternly. “Aziraphale, too,” she quickly added.

Anathema turned to receive her own instructions. There was charged silence before Crowley nudged Aziraphale.

“And you, you… buxom enchantress,” Aziraphale said, trying for authoritative. “Onto your lovely knees.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is where things heat up. SMUT, FULL STEAM AHEAD!


	3. Chapter 3

Though he’d ordered Anathema to her knees, Aziraphale couldn’t help but offer her a hand. She accepted as she gracefully sunk down.

“May I offer you a pillow or…?” he said.

“No thank you, sir,” Anathema said, suppressing a smile. He was absolutely adorable, but she was trying not to undermine his already tenuous confidence. Trying to keep in the spirit, Anathema pushed away thoughts of the winsome, pleading look those kaleidoscopic eyes might give her if the tables were turned.

Across the room, Newton tripped over his trousers in an ungainly striptease down to his polka-dotted boxer shorts. Anathema resisted the urge to rise and help him.

“Alright there, Newt?” Crowley said with amusement.

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” Newton muttered.

“Excuse me?” Crowley said, a hint of menace worked into the words.

Newton looked to him with wide eyes. “Yes, I’m fine, thank you… sir.”

“Atta boy. On the floor.”

As Newton plopped his gangly limbs onto the rug near the corner, Crowley snatched something off the bureau and tossed it to him. The human fumbled the thumbscrews, barely catching them mid-air.

“Put these on.”

Newton looked perplexed. It was clear he had questions.

“Figure it out,” Crowley said. “Snug enough they won’t fall off if we’re kind enough to let you have a little wank later.”

The demon directed his attention back to Anathema. A sadistic smile slid across his face. He leaned down and wound his fingers into her dark hair, grabbing a handful at the roots. There was an electric jolt in Anathema’s lower bits, and her brain surged back into that submissive energy. She groaned quietly. He smelled of Brut and brimstone.

“As for you, _buxom enchantress_ ,” Crowley rumbled just loud enough for Newton to hear, “why don’t you strip from the waist up.” It wasn’t a request.

Anathema fell a little further into that familiar malleability as she undid the buttons of her blouse and slipped it off. Her full-coverage black lace bra followed. As the cool air hit, her nipples puckered.

“Aziraphale, please fetch the leather cuffs from the toy bag. Anathema, arms up.”

Retrieving the items, Aziraphale fell back behind Crowley, observing with owlish eyes.

Crowley unbuckled one wide leather cuff to expose the rabbit fur lining. He hummed in approval and ran the fur down Anathema’s raised arm and shoulder, across her collarbone and lightly across her breasts. It was her turn to hum at the delicious morsel of sensation, designed to whet her appetite. Crowley finished at the opposite wrist and secured the cuff around it, giving the other side a similar treatment.

“Put your arms behind your back,” Crowley said.

Anathema obeyed. Her tits perked out salaciously in this position.

“Isn’t she lovely?” Crowley asked Aziraphale.

A hint of lust flared up in the angel’s eyes. “Quite.”

Crowley’s affably smug demeanor remained intact. He motioned her up.

“Remove your shoes and Aziraphale’s coat.”

She stood, slipped off her flats, and in stockinged feet beneath her long skirt padded up to Aziraphale. He stood ramrod straight.

“May I take your coat please, sir?”

“Of course,” he replied stiffly.

As she shucked it gingerly from his shoulders, Anathema might have “accidentally” brushed her tits against him a few times. He also might have inhaled sharply with eyes slightly widened. She carefully laid the jacket on a chair by the bed.

“Oi! What was that, young lady?” Crowley cried out. “Rubbing those beautiful tits on a divine being without permission. Shameless!” He was clearly pleased for the opening.

Anathema cast a playfully innocent gaze upon the demon. “I’m terribly sorry, sir. He’s just hard to resist.”

“He _is_ irresistible,” said Crowley, stalking up behind Anathema.

“Flattery will get you ev—” A blushing Aziraphale caught himself and plastered on what could be described as a schoolmarm’s stare. “… nowhere, my dear.”

Stepping forward, Crowley pressed himself into Anathema’s back. This forced her bare chest against Aziraphale, who tried to hide his surprise. The cloth of his waistcoat chafed delightfully against her nipples as she stared into the angel’s fathomless eyes.

  
The demon grabbed Aziraphale’s hips and used the leverage to crush them all together. Anathema could feel a hard-on against her bum, and the beginnings of the same against the front of her thigh. Her pussy pulsed and she made a small noise in the back of her throat.

“Know what Aziraphale likes?” Crowley murmured into Anathema’s ear.

She gave a little shake of her head. “No, sir.”

“Heaven help him, he _adores_ a snog.”

Anathema and Aziraphale were practically nose-to-nose now, gazing at each other’s lips. The angel smelled of shortbread and ancient tomes.

“Don’t you, Azira—”

Before Crowley could finish the question, the angel pressed his soft lips to Anathema’s, an inquiry of a kiss. She followed Aziraphale’s lead as little pecks turned into open mouth kisses. Soon enough their tongues were intertwined. He wasn’t just a hobbyist – Aziraphale was an aficionado. The recently fastidious angel tangled his hands into Anathema’s hair to tilt her head this way and that. Anathema ground into his now undeniable erection.

Crowley guided the angel’s hand down to one of her breasts, which Aziraphale cupped tentatively at first. When Anathema gave a little grunt of approval, he kneaded it more firmly, even daring to lightly pinch her nipple.

“I’ll bet she likes it harder than that,” Crowley said.

The pressure on Anathema’s nipple gradually increased until the pleasurable pain caused her to moan into Aziraphale’s mouth. At the sound, his hips thrust forward. They rutted against one another like teenagers under the bleachers – except that the metaphoric devil-on-the-shoulder was very real, and rubbing his hard cock against her arse. She broke out in goosebumps as Crowley nibbled on the back of her neck.

“Don’t think we’ve forgotten that you’ve been naughty,” said the demon, nipping his way along her neck.

Spinning as it was from Aziraphale’s indulgences, Crowley’s earlier “threat” had gone clear out of Anathema’s head.

“Of course not, sir,” Anathema murmured against Aziraphale’s lips.

“Since the transgression was against Aziraphale, perhaps he might like to administer the punishment?”

Aziraphale’s inflamed gaze flicked to Crowley over Anathema’s shoulder, then back to her face. His voice was thick. “Indeed I might.”

“May I suggest you sit on the edge of the bed, angel?”

Aziraphale gave Anathema one last lingering kiss and squeezed her breast before pulling away. Lips swollen and erection tenting his trousers, he arranged himself on the foot of the bed, rolling up his shirtsleeves.

Anathema glanced over to Newton, who sat cross-legged and slack-jawed in the corner. It appeared he’d figured out the auto-erotic thumbscrewing, and his trapped hands brushed the edge of his own erection as he ogled the scene.

“You there,” Crowley barked to him. “No touching yourself without my say-so.”

The demon smirked as Newton meekly dragged his hands away from his crotch as best he could.

Crowley turned back towards the bed. “Can you see without these?” he asked, motioning to Anathema’s glasses.

“Yes, though I won’t be reading you any bedtime stories,” she said.

“We’re making up our own bedtime story this time,” he purred. The world went a little blurry as Crowley carefully removed her specs and placed them on the bedside table. “Now why don’t you just drape yourself over Aziraphale’s lap, there’s a good girl.”

Anathema relished the thought, climbing onto the bed and lowering herself over the angel’s thighs. His hard prick dug into her hip and he shifted himself subtly before stroking one supple hand down the skin of her back and the another over the twill covering her bottom.

“Hands behind your back,” Crowley commanded. Once Anathema complied, he clipped the leather cuffs together. He flipped her long skirt up to reveal high-waisted black lace underpants over a suspender belt that held up her thigh-high wool stockings.

“Knickers on or off, angel?”

“They are very nice but… off, I think,” Aziraphale replied, still proper but no longer prim.

With bound arms, all Anathema could do was shift her weight to her shoulders to assist the angel in slipping the underpants down her legs. Her trimmed muff rasped against Aziraphale’s pressed cotton trousers. She was already wet, and became wetter still as the angel caressed her freshly-bared flesh. As anticipation curled in her belly, Anathema longed for his caresses to find her core.

Crowley crouched down so he could look her in the face.

“Are you ready, _enchantress_?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hell may have adopted it, but Heaven invented discipline. More to come!


	4. Chapter 4

Temple pressed into the mattress and arse stuck up in the air, Anathema nodded to the demon. She wriggled to get more comfortable over the angel’s lap, and to chase a bit of friction between her damp thighs. Crowley patted her on the head and stood.

“At your leisure, angel.”

Aziraphale’s caresses on her bottom turned to exploratory squeezes.

“You callipygian minx,” he murmured.

Mentally sifting through her large vocabulary of archaic language, Anathema was almost pulled out of her aroused reverie.

Fortunately Aziraphale brought her back with a light smack to the bum. Then another. She hummed encouragingly and rubbed her hip into his erection. This earned her another slap. Then another and another, a little harder than the last, until the angel unleashed a barrage of firm blows upon her cheeks. Anathema writhed over his thighs, rubbing her own together to the beat of the delicious sting. She chirped with every strike.

Just as she reached her pain threshold, Aziraphale’s hands became gentle once more, massaging her tender, heated flesh.

“Well done, angel,” Crowley said with pride. “Not bad for your first time on the delivering end.”

“I have an excellent tutor,” Aziraphale replied, a bit breathless. He peered down at Anathema, still stroking her arse. “Are you quite alright, my dear?”

“Oh yes sir,” she panted, floating through an endorphin haze.

“Is she wet?” Crowley asked knowingly.

She was practically soaking the leg of the angel’s trousers. As he tentatively dipped a finger between her exposed labia, Aziraphale maintained profound eye contact. Anathema groaned at the attention as much as the teasing contact, grinding her pubis into his thigh.

“Indubitably,” Aziraphale replied. His voice had lost its ingenue’s lilt.

Crowley leaned down to stare her in the face again.

“Naughty girl. Would you like Aziraphale to stick those _divine_ fingers inside you?”

Aziraphale was now running said fingers up and down her soaking slit.

“Yes, yes please sir,” Anathema replied hastily. Her eyes flicked to the angel’s, his expression one of esoteric intrigue. His finger wandered down to toy with her clit and she groaned into the mattress.

“I dunno, angel,” Crowley said, tone suddenly light again. “Doesn’t sound like much of a punishment.”

“Hmm. What do you suggest?” Aziraphale said, now tormenting more than just Anathema’s clit. She faintly spied an orgasm on the horizon.

“Apology blowjob? Always puts me in a forgiving mood.”

“Well,” Aziraphale said agreeably, erection nudging Anathema’s flank. “You’re the expert.”

Anathema moaned at the loss of the angel’s finger.

“It appears you have not yet atoned for your sins, my dear,” he said sternly.

Crowley undid the clip between her cuffs and gave his partner an expectant look.

“So…” Aziraphale continued, clearing his throat. “Atone.”

As Anathema slithered off his lap, Aziraphale nabbed a decorative pillow from the bed and placed it between his feet.

“So thoughtful, sir,” Anathema said in genuine thanks as she knelt on it.

He smiled down on her with imperious kindness, though she sensed he still wrestled with his insecurity.

Anathema careened her hands up Aziraphale’s calves to his thighs. Avoiding the bulge in his trousers, she paused near the waistband.

“May I, sir?”

It felt a bit like topping from the bottom, but this clearly wasn’t a game of strict protocol. Anathema yearned for the angel to feel confident in what seemed to be his first endeavor – he had great potential as a top. She wanted to give him pleasure, to see it sparkling out of those eyes of otherworldly Prismacolor.

Also, she really loved giving head.

“You may,” he replied.

Anathema unfastened his trousers. When she ran a hand over his linen boxer shorts and across his hard-on, the angel let out a little sigh. Reaching in, she took him in hand and brought his cock out to blink in the daylight.

Crowley had said they could choose whatever genitalia they liked. She appreciated that Aziraphale had settled on a cock to the large side of average – though perhaps not as much as Anathema hoped she’d appreciate settling herself on it later.

Anathema cast a sultry look up at the angel and wrapped her lips around the head of his prick. His face began to flush as she slowly slipped his length into her mouth.

Suddenly Crowley knelt next to her, his breath hot on her cheek as he peered over her shoulder.

“Ohhh, he likes that,” he murmured in Anathema’s ear. His voice was, as advertised, positively sinful.

She picked up the pace a little. Aziraphale groaned quietly. Crowley took her hand and guided it to his partner’s testicles. Together they cupped them.

“He especially enjoys it when his balls get a little squeeze.”

Aziraphale’s next groan was not so quiet. The heat of the demon’s proximity sent another thrill down to her cunt.

“He really can’t say no to anything when his cock is getting sucked – this would be the perfect time to ask for his forgiveness. Too bad you’ve got your mouth full.”

Anathema hummed a little surprised laugh around Aziraphale’s prick, and he thrust his hips forward at the sensation. Maybe Crowley would throw in a bonus dirty talk lesson for Newton.

Aziraphale tangled his hand in Anathema’s tresses. She sucked the angel with vehemence, silently inviting him to grab a handful of hair and fuck her face. Aziraphale’s moans took on a pattern that matched the slight jerking of his hips.

“Oh, my dear,” Aziraphale whispered hoarsely, “you have the most succulent lips.”

“The compliments have begun. That means he’s close,” Crowley said. He pressed himself into Anathema’s back “Keep doing what you’re doing.”

Fondling his balls, Anathema kept a steady pace on the angel’s lovely cock as he grunted and sighed above her. The hand in her hair tightened, but never restricted her movement.

“Your mouth is like Paradise!” he breathed. “You gorgeous darling! I’m going to… I’m going to...”

The angel let out a cry and spurted into Anathema’s waiting mouth. His spunk tasted like vanilla ice cream, which she relished in awe before swallowing it down.

When his convulsions had calmed, Anathema gave Aziraphale one last suckle. Crowley gave her some room to lean back on her haunches, molded into his torso. She beamed with aroused pride at Aziraphale’s flushed face.

“Well done, you,” Crowley said to Anathema. “Humans, eh?” he chuckled to his angel.

“I say. Utterly delightful,” Aziraphale replied as he caught his breath. He pulled a monogrammed handkerchief from his pocket and dabbed the sweat from his face.

Crowley placed a firm hand over Anathema’s collarbone. “Don’t think you’re off the hook yet though,” he growled in her ear. Her nether bits surged with warmth at the dominant gesture and implication.

Rising, Crowley patted her on the head fondly. He half-turned to Newton.

“Enjoying the show?” Crowley asked casually. 

Anathema peeked over. Her fellow gaped at them from his post in the corner, hard-on raging but apparently untouched. He nodded with dumb enthusiasm.

“Good boy.”

The demon immediately went back to ignoring the man and pointed at a chain dangling from the ceiling above the middle of the bed.

“Speaking of being ‘on the hook,’ is that a hard point?”

Recently Anathema had been trying out some new suspension bondage rigs on Newton. The chain proved difficult to install and remove so they’d just left it there for future use.

“Yes, sir.”

Crowley’s eye twinkled. “Anathema, take off your skirt and go fetch me your favorite flogger from the toy bag. Aziraphale, you may want to lose the rest of your kit before it gets… mussed.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anyone up for ice cream? ;) More coming soon!


	5. Chapter 5

Down to just her suspender belt and wool stockings, Anathema reverently offered a flogger of soft, purple leather to Crowley.

“Nice choice,” he said, admiring the handmade piece and smacking himself on the leg with it a few times. “Now... on your knees in the center of bed.”

Anathema obeyed, trying with a little laugh to keep her balance as Crowley jumped up on the bed. He stood in front of her, testing the sturdiness of the chain by yanking hard on it a few times.

Aziraphale seemed to want a little privacy as he meticulously began to divest himself of clothing, back turned demurely by the far side of the bed. Trying not to fixate as he stripped down to whatever the angelic equivalent of a birthday suit was, Anathema focused her longing gaze on the demon’s crotch instead. The outline of his semi was within tantalizing reach inside his tight trousers. Anathema reminded herself she was being a good girl.

“Hands,” Crowley said.

She lifted them to the demon, who spent a moment gauging the perfect link in the chain for a heavy-duty carabiner. He snatched up her arms and clipped her cuffs to the chain, then bounced off the bed to check his work. With the chain taut, Anathema’s elbows were bent in relative comfort at eye level.

She felt her nudity keenly as three sets of eyes admired her like a piece of installation art. Crowley leered at Anathema from the edge of the bed and gave her a gentle shove. She grasped the chain and swayed on her knees.

“Perfect,” he said.

“Seconded,” murmured Aziraphale earnestly, though it was apparent the naked angel wasn’t referring to Crowley’s handiwork. The demon shot him a smile. Anathema blushed.

“Aziraphale, would you be so kind as to climb on the bed and give Anathema some extra stability during the next phase of her punishment?”

“Certainly,” the angel replied.

“Scoot,” Crowley said to Anathema. 

She shuffled to the side as far as she could, precariously balanced. With as much dignity as Aziraphale could muster, he laid on his back across the width of the bed, feet hung over the edge. His cock began to harden. Anticipation reared up inside Anathema once again as Aziraphale positioned his hips where hers had just been. 

“Go on, climb aboard,” Crowley said. “He’s very supportive. Aren’t you, angel?”

Aziraphale cleared his throat. “I do try.”

With a bit of acrobatics, Anathema managed to land an ungainly straddle over Aziraphale’s upper thighs. He steadied her by the waist, and his touch brought up gooseflesh in its wake. The angel’s prick stood fully at attention as his eyes filled with affectionate desire. She shifted slightly to the side and let out a sigh as her sopping cunt achieved a bit of traction on his leg.

“Don’t move,” Crowley instructed from behind her.

It was a tall order but she was eager to please. As a sudden cool breeze caressed her skin, Anathema imagined Crowley swishing the flogger around, testing its weight and reach. She closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths, relaxing into the pose and the moment. Aziraphale lightly stroked her side with his thumb.

She inhaled sharply and her eyes popped open as Crowley finally let the tips of the flogger skim her upper back a few times. Aziraphale’s grip tightened. Mild concern mixed in with his amorous gaze. It took work not to grind against him – having the angel’s cock so close yet inaccessible was torture in and of itself.

Crowley slowly and deliberately thudded the weight of the falls against her. It was delicious discomfort, like a deep-tissue massage. After a short warm-up, the demon ran a hand along his target zone.

“Doing all right there?” he purred into Anathema’s ear.

“Yes, sir,” she whispered, diving deeper into subspace. 

“Aziraphale?” 

“The view is… quite captivating.”

Crowley chuckled. “You handle your side of things as you see fit, angel.”

Aziraphale locked eyes with Anathema. His hands skated down to her hips and he helped her awkwardly shuffle forward until her thighs sat on either side of his pelvis. The position laid her cunt lengthwise atop his cock. She groaned and ground her slickness into him, need banishing what little sense she had left.

“Patience, darling.” The breathiness of the angel’s admonition belied his own eagerness. 

Anathema unconsciously tugged on her bindings while wishing she could run her fingers through the blond pelt on his chest. 

“Let’s get this show on the road,” Crowley proclaimed. 

The initial stingy slaps of leather on Anathema’s shoulder blades sent shivers down to her toes. With great difficulty she remained still above Aziraphale. As Crowley gradually increased the tempo and intensity,  h er eyes floated shut. The witch began to mewl, body jerking slightly with each blow of the flogger. The head of Aziraphale’s prick massaged her clit with the movement.

Anathema was helpless, physically and mentally, completely trusting herself to the whims of a demon and his angel; melted down from a sentient being into a ball of molten sensation. She felt weightless under the rush of endorphins and attention – but if she had to wait a moment longer to feel Aziraphale inside her, she was sure to lose her mind. Somehow she mustered up the power of language. 

“Oh, please, sir,” she begged, a horny mess.

“Please _what_?” Crowley punctuated the word with a hard thud of the flogger.

Anathema opened her eyes to stare pleadingly at the angel between her legs. Crowley paused. Aziraphale’s beautiful face was raw with riveted fervor. 

“Please… please fuck me,” she implored.

Before Crowley even had the words “that’s Aziraphale’s department” out of his mouth, the angel was shifting below her. Anathema grasped the chain with sweaty palms and lifted herself up a few inches. Aziraphale grabbed his cock and dragged it along the length of her soaked pussy. She thrust her hips forward.

“Please sir, please sir, please,” Anathema plead like a prayer. 

Both angel and human let out a moan as the head of Aziraphale’s cock slid into her entrance. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anathema, you lucky thing. Stay tuned for the next filthy chapter!


	6. Chapter 6

Through her frenzy, Anathema somehow allowed herself time to accommodate Aziraphale’s prick, as she bobbed slowly down upon it. When he finally bottomed out in her pussy, they both stared at each other in awe. Anathema thought the fire inside her might burning a hole right through her soul.

Anathema was completely focused on how the angel’s beautiful cock filled her – so Crowley caught her completely off guard with a mighty wallop from the flogger. Anathema cried out and ground down on Aziraphale. The demon started in on a snappy rhythm. The ends of the falls barely kissed her back, but her flesh was so tender that each strike was a flash-bang of pleasure. She held the chain for leverage and rocked her hips in time to the tempo. With the angel so deep inside her and the demon so kindly cruel behind her, Anathema could hardly stand it – and wanted more more more.

Aziraphale grabbed two handfuls of her hips to slow her down, his expression already frantic.

“Oh, you luminous temptress,” he moaned.

Crowley readjusted his cadence to match theirs. Anathema felt the inevitability of her orgasm, a visceral crest she rode in a sea stormy with sensation. The demon administered one last deep thud with the flogger that almost knocked the wind out of her. Even through her relief over the ceased barrage, Anathema felt the loss of Crowley’s rhythm. Then suddenly his heartbeat soothed her throbbing shoulder blades as the demon knelt behind her on the bed, pressed up against her back.

Human and angel paused in delirious confusion until Crowley laid his hands over Aziraphale’s on Anathema’s hips. The demon leered over her shoulder at his partner while guiding her hips back into a solid pace on the angel’s cock. Anathema rejoiced as her plateau returned to its skyrocketing trajectory. She clenched around the angel.

Aziraphale’s face contorted with bliss. His hips began to stutter as scraps of archaic compliments fluttered from his mouth.

“Ah, you ambrosial delectation! Empyrean nonpareil!”

Crowley’s hands slid up to roughly pinch Anathema’s nipples. He bit her neck.

The tsunami of her orgasm slammed over her. She shuddered against her bindings as the demon coiled strong arms around her.

Aziraphale let out a heartrending cry below. He thrust again and again, shot her spasming pussy full of his cum.

As the whimpers and shaking subsided, Crowley unclipped Anathema’s cuffs from the chain, releasing her aching arms. She collapsed atop Aziraphale, head resting on the angel’s heaving chest. His embrace was comfort incarnate, like being held by a cloud. His delighted laugh wavered with his recent exertion. Aziraphale rolled them over to the side, cock still seated inside her.

Crowley curled himself against her back. He smelled like the forest after a thunderstorm.

Tucked securely between the two otherworldly lovers, Anathema floated on wings of oxytocin and endorphins.

“Are you quite all right?” Aziraphale asked with genuine concern in his eyes.

“Yes… _quite_ ,” she replied, a light tease in her languid voice.

Aziraphale beamed and stroked her damp hair. “That was positively marvelous, my dear.”

It was her turn for a shaky laugh. “I’ll say it was.” She stretched a hand behind her to Crowley’s sandpaper cheek. “Thank you.”

“Oh, don’t thank us til we’re done with you,” Crowley growled and pressed his erection against her bottom through his trousers.

Fresh anticipation roiled in Anathema’s belly. She unconsciously gave a little roll of her hips, acutely aware once again of Aziraphale’s prick inside her. He let out a little “mmph” at the reminder and fully hardened. The earnest longing returned to his eyes.

“Aziraphale’s been having such a nice time, it’d be a shame to end the party now,” the demon said. He reached over Anathema and pulled the angel’s face to his. Enflamed by the passionate kiss so close to her own face and the little moan that left Aziraphale’s throat, she couldn’t help but rock her body between them, chasing a bit of friction.

Aziraphale broke away from the kiss, though he looked mildly pained to have done so. “Oh but Crowley, you’re still… unsatisfied. Look at us, rolling around in the nude, and you still fully dressed.”

“This situation has been _very_ satisfying for me, angel. But if you insist, I’m sure I could rummage around and find a few extra thrills.”

“I do insist, absolutely. That is if the young lady is amenable.”

Anathema hadn’t been this horny since she was a teenager. She nodded vehemently. “Yes please, sirs.”

Aziraphale smiled indulgently. The demon peeled his shirt off and tossed it on the floor.

“And our poor protege in the corner,” Aziraphale continued, peering over his shoulder to Newton.

Newton’s voice failed him. He cleared his throat and tried again. “Don’t… don’t stop on my account.”

“That’s sorted then.” A wicked grin crept across Crowley’s face. “Aziraphale, why don’t you two scooch up towards the top of the bed. Bonus points if you can stay inside her in the process. _Without_ a miracle.”

It took some very pointed grappling and wriggling, but the angel and human landed on their flanks, giggling heads atop a pillow and prick still happily placed. Crowley lounged at the foot of the bed facing them.

“Congratulations, you’ve won the big prize!” Crowley crowed. “Everyone gets laid! Well, everyone but you, Newt,” Crowley called over his shoulder with a sadistic chuckle.

Aziraphale smiled coyly – though how he managed that expression while balls-deep inside of Anathema’s cunt was a mystery.

“Angel, may I suggest you assume the good old missionary position?”

“Of course you may.”

He rolled his weight atop Anathema. She was beyond ready, groaning and rutting against him.

“Though what we’re about to do with that position would make a missionary rain bibles down upon our heads,” Crowley said. “Aziraphale, you’d better get started. Your poor _enchantress_ looks like she’s about to summon her ancestors for moral support.”

Anathema's sanity did seem to be slowly leaking away as she remained pinned on the end of the angel’s cock. It was blissful relief when Aziraphale began to thrust slowly into her.

“Yes… that’s so good, sir...” she moaned, lightly dragging her fingernails over his chest. The angel shuddered and inhaled deeply.

Lost in the beautiful friction, she hardly noticed when Crowley rolled off the bed to retrieve something from the toy bag. He climbed up on the mattress behind Aziraphale, who looked back at him fondly without missing a languid stroke. Anathema heard the tines of Crowley’s zipper and the snap of a plastic bottle cap. He’d removed his sunglasses.

Aziraphale suddenly went still above her. She was ready to protest until she put two and two together.

“Relax, angel.”

“I know,” huffed Aziraphale in an odd fit of pique before he closed his eyes and drew in a deep, calming breath. He chirped a few times and his cock pulsed inside Anathema’s pussy.

“Very good, angel,” Crowley murmured.

The demon stared at her over Aziraphale’s shoulder, his startling snake eyes a contrast to the angelic pair that popped open above her.

“Aziraphale, I want you to fuck her the way I fuck you. Like a little game of telephone. You don’t come until I say so. She doesn’t come until you say so. Are we clear?”

Both angel and human nodded with flushed cheeks.

“I said… _are we clear_?”

“Yes, sir!” came two replies at once.

Crowley grasped Anathema’s knees for leverage as he gently but inexorably pressed into his partner. Aziraphale mimicked the movement, bottoming out in Anathema’s pussy with a groan. She rolled her hips, burning for the demon to fuck them both soundly and swiftly. Aziraphale’s hips bucked involuntarily, her pleading expression mirrored on his guileless face.

“Ah ah ah!” Crowley tutted.

She heard the slap of Crowley’s hand connecting with unseen skin, and her own whine as the angel’s cock jerked into her cervix.

“Aziraphale, I know you’re both eager little beavers, but get a grip, eh?”

Aziraphale peered back in askance.

“I mean that literally, angel. Hold her down.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll bet we're going to hear more compliments from Aziraphale in the next installation. ;)


	7. Chapter 7

Aziraphale schooled his face back into that schoolmarm scowl. He tenderly but firmly guided Anathema’s cuffed wrists above her head and pinned them to the pillow. She loved feeling helpless below the angel, especially at the behest of his demon.

Compliance achieved, Crowley began to work himself in and out of Aziraphale. The angel seemed to struggle with the challenge at hand, but managed a rough tandem with his partner. Anathema didn’t mind the awkwardness of his thrusts, so long as they didn’t stop. Her pussy danced around his prick.

As he merged with Crowley’s stride, Aziraphale’s frown of concentration soon eased into pleasure. The demon increased the intensity of his thrusts and Aziraphale passed it along to Anathema, much to her delight. The sounds of skin-slapping-skin filled the room, mixed with assorted grunts and coos.

Crowley smirked as Anathema began to keen, hurtling headlong towards another orgasm.

“Her tits bounce so beautifully when you’re fucking her like that, angel. I’d have a go at them myself, but under the circumstances I ‘spose you’d better take care of it and report back.”

Aziraphale’s eyes blazed at the demon’s demand. He transferred Anathema’s dainty wrists to one hand and dragged the other down her dewy neck and collarbone to capture a jiggling breast. She writhed and moaned beneath him as the angel engulfed her nipple in his cultured mouth. He suckled and nipped roughly. The exquisite agony was almost too much to bear. A shuddering mass of skin and muscle, Anathema wasn’t going to be able to control herself for much longer. Unconsciously she fought against Aziraphale’s grasp.

“Please sir, please... please may I come?” she begged frantically.

There was a dollop of sadism in Aziraphale’s passionate gaze as his eyes flicked up to meet hers.

“Do you think you’ve earned it, you naughty brambleberry tart?” he rumbled, breath ghosting over her sensitive nipple.

Anathema thought she heard Crowley snicker before upping the stakes. He fucked his angel – and her through him – hard, quick and deep. She was alight from the inside out.

“Yes sir! Oh please!”

Aziraphale worried her nipple between his teeth. He looked close to the breaking point himself.

“Well then, comely Venus!” the angel panted. “Keep those bewitching eyes on mine and come for me.”

Somehow Anathema managed to keep her eyes locked on his as she broke into a million pieces. Claiming her mouth, he swallowed the rest of her cries like a delicacy. Aziraphale sobbed as her cunt clenched around his cock.

He suddenly released her wrists as a loud poofing sound jerked her back to a strange reality. All thrusting ceased immediately. A gust of wind tickled her soaking, naked flesh. Aziraphale looked embarrassed as he yanked his face away from hers.

Anathema found herself blinking up at a wall of pure white feathers.

Crowley sputtered like a cat with a hairball.

“Oh, my dear Crowley!” Aziraphale cried. The tips of his enormous wings brushed the ceiling before he reigned them in. “I’m so terribly sorry!”

Though partially obscured by the angel’s resplendent plumage, Anathema saw Crowley spit out a few feathers.

“Think nothing of it angel,” he replied, fishing one last bit of white fluff out of his mouth. “I should have seen that coming.”

Anathema stared in wonderment. “May I… may I touch them?” she whispered.

“By all means, my dear.”

Aziraphale’s cock slid deliciously in Anathema’s sopping, sensitive cunt as he pressed his torso against hers, but she hardly noticed. He carefully unfurled his wings and curled them around their bodies. They seemed to give off their own glow. Encased in a bright, magical world of white, Anathema reached a hand out and reverently ran it down the feathers. They were even softer than they looked, velvety as the rabbit fur inside her leather cuffs. Her brain vaguely registered one long black feather growing out from the rest.

“They’re magnificent,” she murmured, gazing into his kindly face. It was almost unbearably intimate. Tears welled in her eyes at the ineffable splendor of the moment.

“See, angel?” Crowley said from what seemed far, far away. “I’m not the only who weeps at your beauty.”

Aziraphale bowed his head, suddenly looking very vulnerable himself. Before he could respond, Anathema pressed her lips tenderly to his. Crowley leaned forward and nuzzled his face into the angel’s neck. After a ponderous moment, Aziraphale hummed contentedly and opened his mouth to let his tongue skim hers. As the languorous kiss deepened, Anathema felt a hand on her cheek. Crowley. He caressed away a tear that tracked down her face. She pressed his hand with her own. Gently, he extracted it, smoothing down a wild blond lock on Aziraphale’s head along the way.

Aziraphale began to shift his prick inside her, sliding with ease along the lubricant of his own cum. Anathema’s every nerve ending sang, from the tip of her tongue, consumed as it was by the angel, to the deepest recesses of her cunt. Crowley gave an appreciative grunt behind his partner.

The trifecta of bodies felt like a spiritual joining as Aziraphale and Crowley slipped in and out, slow and deep. Aziraphale would bottom out in Anathema’s pussy and hold firm as she arched and moaned into his mouth. Then he’d deliberately withdraw until only the head of his cock remained seated inside.

Crowley gave a gratified groan. “Oh, _fuck_... I’m so deep inside you, angel; Anathema, it’s like I can feel your cunt right through him,” he uttered, voice hoarse and low.

The two beings, occult and ethereal, began to thrust in earnest. Crowley smoothed his hands along the angel’s back. On the point of overstimulation, but edging up on another orgasm, Anathema felt almost like an astral projection, no longer a mere human encased by mortal flesh.

“You’re soft as Eden’s moss, dear girl,” Aziraphale uttered against her lips. “Warm and bright as the summer sun in a field of wild daisies.”

She melted further into the abyss as his hips quickened. Crowley’s grunts and groans floated on the breeze created by the tiny flap of angel wings that accompanied each thrust.

“Delectable as crème brûlée...” he sighed between erratic strokes, voice rough. “O, you transcendent _bonne bouche_ … come for me…”

Anathema felt as though she dematerialized around him. Through her caterwauling and the blood rushing in her ears she may have heard Crowley speak. Suddenly Aziraphale joined her in a duet as he filled her to the brim with his cum. Now a trio of cries rang out.

Anathema was pure cosmic energy, the same starstuff as the angel, as the demon, as her lover across the room. She babbled in tongues as the angel’s cock stuttered into her for a blessed eternity. One orgasm rolled into the next.

She was still shuddering when Aziraphale collapsed on her like a fallen souffle. Crowley slumped over atop his angel’s heaving back. Aziraphale’s cum leaked out of her past his softening cock, soaking the mattress below.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hadn't planned it this way, but wingkink demanded to be given a place in this narrative, with a little nod to Kedreeva's touching "Imping" fic. 
> 
> There's still one more chapter to come. Trying to figure out if there's a little, ahem, clean-up that happens, or just some fluffy aftercare. Feel free to cast your votes in the comments.


	8. Chapter 8

Beneath their comforting weight, Anathema gradually returned to her regularly scheduled reality. When she finally pried her eyes open, she found Aziraphale’s wings had vanished. Rolling to the side, he passed Anathema a doting, if exhausted, smile and curled his arm around her. They must have been the picture of decadent relaxation.

A grinning Crowley, himself the poster-child for debauchery itself, knelt topless near the foot of the bed, tight trousers pushed halfway down his arse and shining cock still at half-mast.

“Won’t you please join us?” Aziraphale inquired lazily.

“Love to. Though there’s someone else who might also like to join the party.”

Anathema had temporarily forgotten all about Newton. Her brow formed a guilty furrow as her eyes shot over to him.

“Never you mind, dear, we had you _quite_ preoccupied,” Aziraphale said comfortingly, reading her easily as _The Odyssey_ in ancient Greek.

Newton was a gangle of limbs on the floor: thumbs screwed, mouth slightly agape, glasses slid down his nose. His apparently untouched hard-on still raged in his boxers.

“Oh, Newty!” Crowley sang, turning his head to the cuckold’s corner.

“Y-yes sir?”

“You’ve been such a good boy. Why don’t you crawl on over here.”

Attempting to crawl across the floor with his thumbs captured in his own contraption, Newton was even more ungainly than usual. When he finally thumped over to the unoccupied side of the bed, Crowley leaned over and put a hand under his arm for support.

“Can you stand?”

Newton nodded and braced himself on the edge of the bed, clambering unsteadily to his feet. His cock sprang out of the fly of his boxers in the shuffle.

“Good boy.” Crowley gave Newton’s jutting prick a light slap. It bobbed back and forth almost comically as the poor man let out a tortured whine of pleasure.

“Would you like to lick the angel cum out of your lady love’s pussy? It tastes like custard.”

“I thought it tasted like vanilla ice cream,” Anathema murmured. Aziraphale looked humbly pleased with the commentary.

Newton nodded quite vigorously this time, his specs bouncing further down the bridge of his nose. Crowley chuckled and pushed them back up to where they belonged.

“Well too bad,” Crowley continued with a wicked grin. “Just count yourself lucky to have a front row seat.”

Crowley grabbed Newton by the cock and pulled his thighs flush with the edge of the mattress. With all his gasping and quivering, Anathema thought her red-faced fellow might come right then and there except that he was really was such a good boy.

Crowley smirked, then slithered between Anathema’s thighs. Her insides tensed slightly in muted lust. The demon licked his lips and gazed at her pussy seriously, like he was intent on winning a staring contest with it.

“6000 years and still finding cherries to pop,” the demon purred with amusement.

“Crowley, I had no idea this was a… proclivity of yours,” Aziraphale said, absentmindedly petting Anathema like a beloved pet.

Crowley looked up at his partner from between Anathema’s legs with a toothy grin. “Oh angel, you should know by now I’m an endless well of depravity.”

“It is rather part of your charm, my dear.”

Anathema had though her wrung-out body was unable to muster anything more than languid anticipation, but her lust simmered anew as they chatted over her like a meal at the dinner table. The proximity of her fellow’s desperate erection a foot out of reach certainly didn’t hurt. Well, didn’t hurt her, anyhow; it was probably exquisitely painful for Newton – humiliation and denial were two of his favorite things.

The demon casually leaned closer and closer to Anathema’s pussy as Aziraphale’s cum dripped out of her. 

“Well then, time for dessert!” Crowley proclaimed.

Pleasure jolted through Anathema as he enthusiastically plowed face-first into her cunt. She gasped and hid her face in Aziraphale’s shoulder.

“Mmmm, sweet and savory.” Crowley’s voice was muffled. Anathema ground herself into his words.

After a few more swipes with his tongue, Crowley peered over at Newton, who quavered in delicious agony.

“Aziraphale, should we put Newt out of his misery?”

The tips of the angel’s lips quirked up. “The poor creature has rather been run through the wringer,” Aziraphale replied, “though he does suffer so beautifully.”

“Well…” Crowley tilted his head from side to side as he pondered, then sucked on Anathema’s clit thoughtfully. She gave a little yelp as pleasure shot through her. “All right then. Newton, c’mon up here. Anathema, be a good girl and remove that… ahem… device.”

Newton clambered up on the bed to kneel beside her and held his shaking hands out. Normally she would have rolled her eyes at the demon’s pun, but instead she groaned as Crowley easily slid two fingers inside her slippery cunt. Anathema made quick work of the thumbscrews and set them aside. Crowley slowly stroked her g-spot. Her hips followed his rhythm.

“Newt, why don’t you come on those lovely tits,” the demon commanded and dove back into Anathema’s pussy.

She squirmed as the coil inside her tightened. Newton grabbed his cock and started jerking off furiously, wild eyes darting between Anathema to Aziraphale to the demon between her legs.

Anathema’s moans turned to trills as the demon scooped and licked the cum from her pussy. Aziraphale leaned down and kissed her soundly, rolling one of her nipples between his fingers.

It wasn’t long before Newton’s was whining with each stroke. Crowley’s tongue found Anathema’s magic spot and suddenly she teetered on the edge.

“Come for us, darlings,” Aziraphale said against her lips, and leaned back.

Newton’s whines turned to sobs. Anathema cried out as yet another orgasm smashed against her insides.

Aziraphale shifted his hand from Anathema’s nipple to cup the underside of her breast, as if presenting Newton with his target. The long-suffering fellow shouted as he painted Anathema’s tits with his pearly-white cum.

Crowley gave one last delicate suck on Anathema’s oversensitive pussy and sat back. The two human panted. Aziraphale and Crowley seemed to take in the scene appreciatively before the demon nabbed his shirt off the floor. He handed it to Newton, who immediately got the hint. He tenderly and thoroughly swabbed his cum off Anathema’s torso.

“Come here, my love,” Anathema purred to Newton. He glanced at Crowley, who nodded approvingly. Newton fell onto the mattress beside her in a mess of sweaty limbs, laying his head upon Anathema’s bosom.

“Budge over,” Crowley said, and the trio scooched as best they could. The demon nestled in to spoon Newton, his arm flung over him. Aziraphale cuddled Anathema to his chest and reached out to hold Crowley’s hand atop the humans.

The four luxuriated in each other’s touch for a while in blissful silence.

“My stars, that _was_ most delightful indeed,” sighed Aziraphale finally. “And… quite educational. What do you call that – infotainment?”

“Nobody calls it that, angel,” teased Crowley, squeezing his partner’s hand.

Anathema smoothed Newton’s damp hair from his forehead.

“Learn anything, Newton?”

“That... might be an understatement,” he whispered.

“I’m looking forward to seeing the results of your studies,” she said with a drowsy smile.

Anathema cast grateful glances at Crowley and Aziraphale respectively. “Thank you both so much.”

“Least we could do,” Crowley replied.

“Oh, my dear! the pleasure was ours,” Aziraphale said. He beamed shyly at her. “Perhaps we might… do this again sometime.”

A suggestive, if lazy, grin lit up Crowley’s face.

“I love it when everyone gets a happy ending.”

  
  


THE END (for now)


End file.
